


It's the RvB Sock Drawer!

by Po_ta_toes



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Multiple Relationships, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Reader-Insert, Tags Are Hard, please dont let that discourage you, tiny bits of oc input
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Po_ta_toes/pseuds/Po_ta_toes
Summary: Another drabble collection for this beloved fandom-Ships/tags will be updated as the chapters progress-Some Reader-inserts apply
Relationships: Blue Team & Red Team (Red vs. Blue), Dexter Grif & Dick Simmons, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Lavernius Tucker & Agent Washington, Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington, Leonard L. Church | AI Program Alpha/Agent Texas | AI Program Beta
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. It's a Good Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Red vs Blue or its characters! All rights go to Rooster Teeth.  
> This is strictly for fun.

The ship was a lot larger than she originally thought. After rigging up the explosion and darting out of the Bridge as quickly as she could, the female Red was beginning to wonder where the rest of her team was. 

_ “L/n, where the fuck are you?” _ Her comms pick up Grif’s voice and she panics less because of it.

“I saw an opportunity to blow something up and I took it!” She beamed while running around a corner and started sprinting down a separate hallway.

_ “Good work, soldier!” _

“Thank you, sir!” She replies to Sarge.

Grif scoffs,  _ “Kiss ass.” _

_ “Nah, that’s Dick’s job,” _ Y/n checks her six before she heads down another hallway,  _ “I’m just thanking Sarge for the compliment.” _

_ “Y/n!” _ Speaking of their resident know-it-all,  _ “Did you plant the bomb we made? Great! We’re all at the hangar bay waiting for you.” _

_ “Tú no hiciste la bomba. Lo hice, y estaba destinado a ustedes, idiotas.” _

_ “Let’s go, Y/n!” _ Donut cheered,  _ “I can’t wait to watch the climax!” _

_ “Por favor, date prisa señorita. Ya no puedo escucharlo.” _

Y/n rolls her eyes underneath her helmet at Lopez’s comment, despite not understanding a single word. She hears some movement from down the hall and quickly hides, waiting for a group of pirates to run by her hiding spot before running in the opposite direction. There was a feeling deep in her gut as to why the pirates were running towards the Bridge, and she had a sickly idea as to what was going on, “Uh… Simmons?”

_ “What’s up?” _

“Can you check the Bridge from the security cameras?”

There’s a few moments of silence before Simmons screeches,  _ “Fuck!” _

  
_ “What is it?” _ Donut asked.

_ “They’re trying to disable the bomb! And it’s not set to detonate for another two minutes! If they’re smart, they’ll stop it before that time!” _

_ “Well, duh, I’m sure that’s their goal, dumbass,” _ Grif scoffs.

_ “Fatass.” _

The sinking feeling has fallen down to the bottom of Y/n’s stomach as the dreading thought of the pirate’s getting away reached her mind. The Reds were tasked with stopping this shipment from reaching Locus and Felix by any means necessary, and slowly that plan was starting to waver and fail. A stupid, rash thought dawns on Y/n as her feet slowly take her in the direction of the hangar. 

“I have an idea.”

_ “Let’s hear it, L/n,” _ Sarge grunts.

She sucks in a sharp breath, “You guys get on the escape shuttle and I’ll meet you there. It’ll be a close call so PROMISE that you’ll be on that ship!”

_ “Sheesh, Miss Bossy, no need to shout.” _

“Grif!”

_ “Okay okay, we’ll be there. Promise.” _

She turns off comms so she could let out a huge sigh of relief. She already felt light on the feet and nervous, but she forces herself to move forward and head to the hanger. Y/n clutches the detonator extra tight in her hand before she gets to the large doorway leading to her team and to their shuttle. The red simtrooper takes deep breaths, willing herself to do what was necessary before slamming her fist against the control panel beside the doors. At the action, all sorts of alarms go off and flash red, nearly blinding her when it clashed with the same color of her armor. Y/n steps back and watches the hangar doors on all sides besides the one that leads out into space slam shut… separating her from her way out. She moves fast, heading to the opposite control panel and activating the command codes to the shuttle she knew the other Reds were waiting for her in. Y/n starts the engine and suddenly there’s a lot of simultaneous shouting on the other end of comms. 

_ “Wait, what the fuck?!” _

_ “Y/N! We got a problem!” _

_ “The hangar doors just closed and it looks like the shuttle is starting to take off!” _

_ “Grif! Take over the controls!” _

_ “I can’t! This thing is locked on autopilot or something!” _

_ “But what about the bomb?!” _

_ “WHAT ABOUT Y/N?!” _

“Guys… it’s okay,” she whispers, surprised when all she heard was silence on the other end in response. She wasn’t even sure they heard her until Simmons scoffs sarcastically.

_ “Oh, good, it’s okay. For a second I was worried we were about to leave you on a ship that’s ABOUT TO EXPLODE!” _

“ **_I_ ** was the one who initiated the autopilot and closed the hangar doors.”

_ “... _ **_What_ ** _.” _

_ “Soldier, what in the Sam Hill are you doing?” _

“It’s like you’ve always said, sir,” Her quivering lips turn up slightly, her whole body feeling cold as she clutched the detonator tighter, “ _ ‘Today is a good day to die’ _ .”

_ “What?!” _

_ “No no no no, fuck that!” _

_ “Lopez! Get this ship turned around NOW!” _

_ “Y/n, open these doors! We’re coming to get you!” _

“There’s no time,” Y/n moves her fingers over the control panel and she could see from the window that the shuttle was slowly beginning to leave the ship and out into space, “Look, I can manually detonate the bomb from here. Once I know your ship has taken you back to Chorus, I can just flip the switch.”

_ “Then get on the fucking shuttle with us and detonate it from there!” _ Grif screamed, only for Simmons to correct him but more quietly than his previous high-pitched squeal,

_ “... She can’t. The detonator needs to be close. I couldn’t find one with a stronger radius.” _

“Richard Simmons,” Y/n frowns despite the fact he couldn’t see her, the voice alone was stern enough, “Don’t you fucking DARE feel guilty over this. This was my choice. It’s one whole planet over little ole’ me.”

_ “L/n, we barely give a shit about this planet compared to you. This war wasn’t even your fight to begin with!” _

“I don’t mind it… beats the fake war we were forced into.”

_ “Please don’t do this,” _ Did… Did Grif’s voice just crack?  _ “Don’t pull this Blue Team bullshit on us.” _

She tries to laugh, failing miserably as she choked, “Speaking of which, make sure to give my boxes of colored pencils to Caboose, okay?”

_ “Why?” _ Simmons tries to laugh as well, but it sounded wet,  _ “He’ll just stab someone on his team with those.” _

_ “And we won’t give it to him because you’re going to do it yourself because you are COMING BACK WITH US!” _

_ “Guys… it’s too late,” _ she activates the shuttle’s coordinates and sets it to Chorus, watching from the window as it starts taking off. She wasn’t sure if she imagined it or not, but she could have sworn she saw glimpses of all different shades of red through that small window of the shuttle slowly drifting further and further away. And to think when she woke up this morning, she was getting sick of always being apart of a team that makes up a sunrise when put together. Now she won’t ever see them again, “Make sure to sleep well, don’t forget  _ or  _ neglect to eat. If I find out one of you if not  _ all  _ of you start becoming reckless soldiers who don’t take care of themselves, I’m am going to haunt your dreams, you got it?”

_ “Y/n…” _

“It’s okay…” her voice starts to break along with her heart when she heard Donut sniffling. She reaches for the large detonator’s button and pushes it, watching the countdown start rapidly going down much faster than before, “I’ll be okay. Watch out for each other for me, and always be there for one another.”

The Reds nearly startle through their moment of heavy silence when their shuttle’s alarm starts flashing and projecting the words  **‘WARNING: SELF-DESTRUCT HAS BEEN INITIATED’** .

_ “NO!” _ Simmons and Donut scream while pounding against the glass of their window, looking hopelessly onto the ship in the distance slowly tearing itself apart.

_ “Y/N L/N, DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO US!” _ Grif roars.

_ “Y/N!!!” _ Sarge grunts loudly, even hitting his shotgun against the glass while Lopez is now frantically trying to override the controls in incoherent Spanish.

Y/n hears an explosion in the distance, most likely from the Bridge. She lets a few tears fall while letting out a breathless sigh, “I love you guys.”

The explosion catches up to the hangar and everything in its path is engulfed in flames and debris. The darkness that follows is brief before the second wave ignites and sends a pulse of energy out as the ship is blown to smithereens. The impact of the blast rockets the Red Team’s shuttle and it sends them flying faster towards Chorus.

~~~

Lopez Translations: 

  * You didn’t make the bomb. I did, and it was meant for you idiots.
  * Please hurry up senorita. I can't listen to him anymore.




	2. Grimmons #1 Supporter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short but sweet/funny/angsty exchange between Tucker and Grif. I love these guys as friends <3

Grif recognized the signs of being in a hospital the moment his eyes blinked open. Blinding white lights, white curtains, white walls, white bedsheets, white, white, white...

He instinctively squints his eyes but closes them fully when he realized he couldn't handle the light positioned above him. Who the Hell designed it to be that way, anyway? An asshole who has never had a second of decent sleep in his life, that's who. Assuming it was a guy. Whoever it was, Grif wanted to stab them for causing such a headache to disrupt his dream. Okay, maybe he wouldn't be the one doing the stabbing. Maybe he could hire Washington.

The ringing in his ears slowly dies down and the orange soldier manages to open his eyes fully to look around. His neck muscles screamed in protest once his one brown eye caught the one splash of color that didn't belong in this bright room. Teal... mint... aqua... seriously, what the fuck was that color?

"Where am I?" He asks instead, groaning in pain when his throat cracked to reveal just how fucking thirsty he was--

"Heaven," Tucker grinned with a roll of his eyes, "Because there isn't another stereotypical place in existence that's so blindingly white and smells of bleach and weird laundry detergent. You're in the hospital back on Chorus."

Grif tries to remember why he was here, but his tired brain keeps repeating stupid shit like _'Why **are** you here?'_ and _'What's a guy gotta do to get some jello around here?'_

Tucker watches Grif's face screw up in concentration before willingly answering the unspoken question, "You took point during the fight with the Brute shot--"

"Grifshot."

"Whatever. Anyway, you trimmed down most of the bastards that I left behind for you guys when I went charging ahead."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Grif grumbled now that he remembered being back on the Staff of Charon. He remembers getting shot a few times, and the ache in his left side and right shoulder confirms this. But the adrenaline was running fiercely and he could faintly recall not even taking a moment to breathe as he mows down any soldier that crossed his path. It was actually astonishing to think that Grif wouldn't let up or relax even during an all-out firefight, but something came over him and he was determined to make it out of there alive, along with his friends. Speaking of which, he looks around the rest of the room and prods, "Where's the rest of the idiots?"

"Caboose is in the mess hall."

The orange trooper frowned while looking back at Tucker strangely, "Okay... where are the idiots that _I_ hang out with?"

"Sarge is talking to Doctor Grey about sneaking some poison into your IV drip, Donut is having his Wine and Cheese hour in his room with Doc, and Lopez is... somewhere."

Grif's face is still full of constipation as he continues to try and word his questions very carefully, "Okay... Where are the _smart_ idiots we hang out with?"

The teal soldier's nonchalant shoulder shrug jostles him in his seating position on the visiting chair, "Wash and Carolina are reporting to Kimball about the mission."

The scoff Grif manages to create sounds more like an agitated groan as he manages to bring his uninjured arm up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Goddammit, dude, I'm asking where the fuck Simmons is."

"Oh, _I know_ ," the sly gleam in Tucker's bright eyes and smile was enough to chill Grif down to the bone at the sudden realization, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

_Shit._

"Asshole."

Tucker laughs, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"I don't care if you banged a bachelorette party, Tucker," he glares up at the ceiling.

"Dude, that's not a secret. The secret is I've known about you and Simmons since the beginning."

"No, you haven't."

"Yes, I have!"

"No, you haven't because there isn't anything between me and Simmons," he glares back pointedly.

"Uh huh. Sure. Stay in denial just because I found out. I get it," that stupid grin is still _there_ goddammit, "Anyway, Simmons is in his room because we forced him to sleep in his own bed for once."

The dumbfounded expression takes over Grif's face as Tucker's words roll over slowly in his head, "Huh?"

"Yup! Ever since we got back, he hasn't left your side. It was actually kind of annoying. Not that he wasn't already but hey, whatever floats your boat, man--"

"Tucker, I will blackmail you if this conversation _ever_ leaves this room."

"Why? Got something to hide?" The dark-skinned man's eyebrows wriggle with the insinuation, "Besides, you got nothing on me."

"You got fucked by an alien," Grif shoots back.

"Again, fucked your sister," Tucker folds his arms smugly.

"You used to wet the bed--" but the insult dies in his throat and Grif groans up at the annoying light above him, "Fuck, that was Washington, not you."

"Wait, _Wash_ used to-?! Why didn't you tell me!" Tucker cackled maniacally once he got over the initial shock, clutching his sides as they start to ache with mirth.

Grif smirked in amusement at Tucker's reaction and at the faint memory of finding out himself, "Simmons found out when he was hacking Project Freelancer's 'secret' files."

"And when he found out, he immediately ran to tell _you_?" Tucker grins, singing off-handedly, "I wonder why~"

"Tucker--"

"Hey, if you don't want me to say anything, that's fine. But I'm pretty sure it's obvious to everyone. You wanna know how obvious? I bet you ten dollars that Simmons is gonna stroll in here and make you drink water."

Grif takes the bet just before Doctor Grey showed up. She greets Grif excitedly when she realized he was awake and continued to drone on and on about his surgery and then his recovery. After a while, Grey was slowing down and explained what Grif could do in order to heal faster. Grif was grinning because he had heard the magical word-- _resting_.

"That won't be a problem, doc. Trust me."

"Excellent!" She then turns to Tucker who was still seated on the chair, "And how about you, Captain? Any more headaches or dreams?"

"Not since the last time you asked five hours ago," Grif noted the way Tucker's voice dropped and looked over to realize the Blue was staring down at the floor with an angry glare.

"Well, let me know if anything changes. Or doesn't!" She waves her hand and practically skips out of the room. After she's gone, Grif turns back to Tucker with a raised eyebrow.

"Dude, what happened to _you_?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit, don't go clamming up on me now."

It took some time to let the silence linger uncomfortably before Tucker mumbled, "...Church is gone."

"Oh," Grif waits for a beat before shrugging his good shoulder, "Well, give him another month or two, and then he'll be--"

"No, he's _gone_ gone, Grif. He..." Tucker's voice wavers and his hands clenched tightly around the knee he had propped up onto his chair, "Epsilon deconstructed himself inside my head in order to power up the Meta's suit."

The teal soldier reaches over to the table to fetch his datapad and then leaned towards Grif's bed to hand it over, "Just, here."

Grif had to admit, he was silently choking up while watching Church's goodbye recording. It sucked, and the guy was a resurrecting asshole, but it was still someone he had come to know over the years of fake fighting then real fighting. He cleared his throat after the video ended and then just glared at the wall after Tucker took the datapad back. They were quiet for several more moments before Grif remembered he needed to be courteous, sighing out slowly, "Sorry."

Another shrug, "It probably wouldn't hurt as much if it didn't all happen in _my_ head."

"So the headaches and the dreams...?"

Tucker nodded slowly, "The side effects to... that."

"That sucks."

"Wash helps," it takes a second for Tucker to realize what he said and immediately clears his throat when he looked up to see that knowing look in Grif's mismatched eyes, "I mean, you know, since he's experienced shitty A.I. stuff like this."

"Uh huh."

Tucker actually looked serious for a moment, drumming his fingers against his knee as he pondered, "I won't tell anyone about you and Simmons if you don't tell anyone about Wash."

Grif takes a moment to think this over. There really wasn't a point in hiding it from Tucker anymore. He had too much evidence and he was so confident. Grif thought about his secret naps in Simmons' room and the hand-holding as they drove in the Warthog. If he could have that all to himself for just a few more years, then he could probably compromise and keep Wash and Tucker a secret in exchange, "Alright. Truce."

But a truce couldn't save Grif from losing ten bucks after Simmons came in and gave him some water.


	3. I'll Take Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on what I believe was once a Tumblr post and I have held onto this idea for years. Chapter is set on Iris but Church is there in physical form so sue me
> 
> I guess I should warn about swearing but its RvB what did you expect XD

"What the fuck is this?"

Carolina grins wickedly while leaning against the doorframe. She continues to watch Church open up his Christmas present from Donut. The sudden gift exchange was spontaneously planned when the Reds and Blues realized that they had missed Christmas by, like, a whole month. Tucker was appalled that he missed out on so much mistletoe and Caboose was so depressed about not being able to hand out presents to everyone, so there they all sat one morning on their retired moon Iris, opening up presents and throwing their own Christmas party.

And it was starting to become pretty difficult to hold in her laugh when Carolina witnessed the look on Church's face when he lifted up a shirt from the box. He looked horrified and even more so resigned when he read what was on the front to himself. Tucker and Caboose were told to open their presents right before Church and they looked equally confused. 

"OH MY GOD!" Caboose cheers, "My shirt has Church's name on it!"

"Mine does, too... wait what the fuck does THAT mean?" Tucker frowns once the confusion wears off.

Donut is trying to sit still as the excitement practically radiates off of him, "Now your turn, Wash!"

Carolina turns to watch her former rookie sitting on the couch next to Tucker carefully unwrap his gift, absently placing the bow on top of the other man's head while lifting the lid to reveal yet another shirt. He reads the front and Carolina watches the embarrassed flush run up his neck and face while also reaching the tip of his ears. Tucker had read the shirt from over his shoulder and started cracking up loudly, holding his gut as he folded over.

Donut was delighted at the various different reactions of his Blue Team gifts and clapped his hands, "Now, put them on so that I can take a picture!"

"Nuh uh, absolutely not," Church protests while simultaneously helping Caboose put his arms through the armholes.

Donut turns his head to make a pouting face at Carolina before the former freelancer sighs, "Church, put on the damn shirt."

Church shoots his head up to stare at his sister with honest-to-God betrayal on his face before it slowly falls into a scowl, grumbling under his breath and complaining about how Carolina clearly doesn't have to wear something so humiliating. Caboose had run to the kitchen after his shirt was on to show off to the rest of the Red Team his most precious gift while Tucker was shamelessly throwing his old shirt across the room as he puts on his new one, still grinning like a lunatic as Wash slips into his. Church glances between the two other Blue soldiers and sighs, deciding to go to the bathroom to change.

Once he returns, they retrieve Caboose and leave Grif to laugh hysterically in the kitchen, a picture of his own to cherish for all eternity. Donut has the remaining Blues with the shirts gather in a specific order on the couch before whipping out a Polaroid camera, like, _'Come on, dude, those haven't been relevant since 2019'_.

"Smiiillle!" Donut laughs as he takes the photo, not minding how many he initially has to take when Caboose started squirming. In the end, Carolina had to stand behind Donut to get Caboose's attention.

Donut waits for the film to pop out then waves it around before proudly handing it over for Carolina to evaluate. She was grinning from ear to ear while inspecting the photo.

Both Tucker and Caboose were wearing shirts that said, _'If found please return to Church'_.

Church's shirt said, _'I am Church and you can keep them'_.

And then Wash at the very end of the couch with a very red face had a shirt that said, _'I'm not Church but I'll take them'_. 

Carolina approves and tucks the picture away in her pocket. She wasn't in the picture because she told Donut that if she were the one to buy the shirts, then Donut could gift her the pictures for Christmas and call it even.

Best Christmas ever, in her opinion, of all time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admit it, you heard Caboose saying "Oh my God a giant person!" XD
> 
> And yes, I realize I posted this a month after Christmas


	4. I Wish You Knew Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuckington with background Grimmons and Yorklina, perhaps a hint of Mainewash and whatever ship name was CT and Wash XD
> 
> Clearly, this chapter is Wash-centered

"Hey, rookie!"

Wash turns around and recognizes the spiky dark hair jogging towards him from down the sidewalk, "York...?"

"Well, who'd ya think it was, numbnuts?" York's grin rises to one side of his mouth, his bad eye glossing over while swinging one of his arms over Wash's shoulders, "Come on, North and Maine are waiting for us. CT said she'll be dropping by soon."

"Wait, really?"

"You bet," The older of the two started tugging him along, and Wash nearly stumbles with confusion, "Now let's get a move on."

"Wash! Wait up!"

The blonde man spins back around towards the house he just walked out of and noticed another running towards the two of them. That familiar dark skin and golden eyes relaxed the former freelancer some, "Tucker?"

"Dude, read your messages. I said I was coming along," the familiar weight of Tucker's hand slips into his as the shorter man with the teal shirt beams up at Wash before turning to the brunette standing on the other side of him, "Hey, York. Everything all set up?"

"Oh, yeah. Wait until you try North's grilling. You will never eat a normal restaurant steak again!"

Tucker laughs and challenges York when he mentions that Grif is amazing at cabobs. Wash finds himself smiling and silently listens to the two of them bicker. The trio starts walking away from the house and down the street, nothing but the sound of their laughs and the slow rustling of trees to calm Wash's nerves. It's a quiet neighborhood, with most of their friends occupying the white picket fenced homes. Wash hadn't lived in a house like that since he was a kid when both of his parents were still alive and able to support half a dozen girls and one small boy. And now he has one, with Tucker and occasionally Junior. And all around them are their friends, safe and happy.

Wait-

"Wait, stop," he says his thoughts out loud, suddenly breaking away from York and Tucker's hold on him as if a bucket of ice-cold water rained down on him. The panic sets in as the two other men stare at him oddly, "This... this is wrong... you guys don't know each other."

"Uh... yeah we do?" York tilts his head and blinked with his one good eye, his hands going to rest inside his jean pockets.

"Wash, you introduced us last year, remember?" Tucker's voice was more worried, and he even goes to reach for Wash's wrist.

"No, I didn't!" Wash is quick to step out of reach, his heart going back to beating frantically, "Tucker, you've _never_ met York," his breath becomes irregular as he doesn't even notice that behind and around him, everything started to disappear into dust, "I never got the chance to introduce you guys because he was dead before I even met you--"

_"I have to go."_

That _voice_. He knew that voice. He spun around, looking for a woman he never even knew, but knew her voice all the same. He finally noticed that the neighborhood had suddenly vanished into a grey, endless void, and when he ran forward to find Her, he somehow knew he was already too late.

_"No, ALLISON!"_

That wasn't his voice, so then why was it screaming out of _his_ mouth?

_"Don't worry, you'll see me again."_

_"Agent Washington!"_

_"You're gonna make me late."  
_

Wash collapses to his knees, growling and screaming and aching. His body wasn't working with him and his mind--

It felt like it was splitting apart.

_"Secure him! Get him under control!"_

_"Leonard, come on..."_

His breaths were coming out in short gasps like someone had reached for his lungs and suddenly squeezed. He spun back around to scream at York and Tucker to run... but they were no longer there. The horrific realization that they were gone was enough adrenaline to get him back up to his feet, shaking from head to toe. He had to find them. He had to save them before--

_"What was that he said about goodbyes? Director...? Director?"_

The voices and his head were throbbing, and he desperately tries to block it all out by squeezing his hands over his ears, screwing his eyes shut, and gritting his teeth, still screaming through them like a gag. He finds himself falling again... but this time there was no floor to catch him, the echoes getting worse as he continues to fall.

_"Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes..."_

~~~~~~~~~

"Wash."

His eyes sprung open only to panic even further when he was met with darkness. He instinctively reaches underneath his pillow for his knife but stops short when he finds it gone. Wash doesn't have time to ponder where it had gone when he felt a hand on his arm, then suddenly he's fighting against their hold.

He goes for a punch, but he's met with someone blocking it, their fist wrapped around his own. His legs betray him when he tries to kick, only to realize with horror that his limbs were tangled in a vice grip of bedsheets. Wash tries to buck the assailant off of him by thrusting and twisting his hips, but their legs were already on either side of his torso and keeping him pressed down into the mattress. He had to find some light so that he could see. He needed to see the look on this bastard's face when he kills him. He needs to kill him. 'Needs to kill him so that he could protect--

Tucker.

He briefly tries to feel around Tucker's side of the bed with whatever limb was free enough to do so, only to come back empty. He whips his head around to look back up at the person above him, and finally, his eyes adjust enough to the dark to make out a familiar silhouette.

Tucker.

It's fucking _Tucker_.

The adrenaline begins to wear off once he realizes who's holding him down and his body betrays him by shaking violently. His breath is still catching short every time he tries to take in enough oxygen to relax. Tucker's grip slowly loosens once he knows that Wash is aware of his surroundings, but doesn't pull away with the fear that he'll panic again. Wash wasn't even aware that he was holding tightly onto the front of Tucker's shirt until he felt his fingers start to creak in distress. But even then he wouldn't let go, absolutely terrified of Tucker disappearing on him if he let go.

Wash takes a brief gasp of air in while trying to form words, "The knife. Where's...?"

Tucker's voice is gentle and surprisingly quiet. Wash barely heard him, "We don't keep weapons in the bedroom anymore, remember?"

All too well. He automatically reaches up to brush his thumb over Tucker's right cheekbone, remembering that night. There wasn't any scar there because Tucker had quickly moved far enough away that the tip of the knife had only nicked his skin the last time he woke up Wash from a nightmare.

Tucker leans into the way Wash is holding his face and keeps a comforting grip on the pale, freckled wrists, drawing circles over the frantic heartbeat with his own thumb, "Was it the war?"

Wash stops breathing for a moment while he relayed back those words, the sweat falling off his hair as he shook his head, "No, it was... it started out as a good dream... then it turned into a sad one, and then it became a nightmare. The usual nightmare, with Epsilon trying to die inside my head, flashes of the Director's memories, Allison--"

"Why was it a good dream?" Tucker interrupts, knowing better than to let Wash continue to remember his implantation of Epsilon.

"North was throwing a barbecue, I think. Maine and CT were supposedly there and York was trying to drag me along. You were there, too..."

"Well, duh. If it were a good dream I'd almost have to be in it," Tucker relaxes even further onto Wash's lap when the blonde man breathed out a tiny laugh. Tucker smiled at the small victory and starts running his hands up Wash's arms, "So why did it turn sad?"

"... Because I realized it was a dream. I remembered that you never met York or the others before."

"I knew Tex and Wyoming. I met Maine..." he tried offering helpfully, deciding not to mention CT because he and Wash haven't talked about that yet. It was a long time ago and apparently, Wash was close to the same asshole who tried to kill Tucker in the desert. Even though Carolina's story doesn't add up with Tucker's, it was still one of those things they have yet to discuss. Some things were just too painful to talk about.

Wash shivered, his voice wet, "No, you met the Meta. You didn't know Maine."

Tucker nods in understanding as Wash finally moves forward to hide away in the other man's neck. Tucker's arms wrap fully around Wash's shoulders and they guard the back of his neck against the world. Wash continues to shake in his lover's hold while one of Tucker's hands brush through his wet hair. They sit like that for a while, listening to each other breathe in the darkness of their room. Tucker's chin was nestled on the top of Wash's head to keep him secure against his chest, thinking about what Wash had said before humming, "I don't know if I ever told you this, but I knew Florida."

Tucker felt Wash's nose scrunch up against the base of his neck. A sure sign that he was confused but more importantly distracted, "What? You did?"

"Yeah, he called himself Butch Flowers back at Blood Gulch. He was our captain before he died and Church took over."

"How... how did he die?"

"We thought it was a heart attack, but it turns out when Church went back in time to stop his death from happening, he accidentally killed Flowers by giving him aspirin."

"... Florida was allergic to aspirin."

"No shit," there wasn't any venom behind Tucker's words, but it held the sarcasm that Wash had always come to know and love as Tucker's voice. It made him relax even further into his embrace, despite the heavy conversation they were having about Florida's death. Wash almost felt bad for not knowing Florida as well as the other Freelancers. He remembered that Wyoming used to hang around him all the time, on and off the field but that was about it. Wash wasn't even sure he could picture Florida's face underneath that helmet even if he tried. 

Come to think about it... every year it got harder and harder to remember the rest of their faces. North, York, Maine, CT, all of them. The longer it's been since their deaths, the more Wash struggles with remembering their faces.

"... Do you think they would've liked me?"

Tucker's question stops Wash from thinking too deeply about his thoughts, and maybe that was for the better. Instead, he tried to picture a life where the Freelancers knew Tucker. He tried coming up with a scenario where they would all be in the same place, and for some reason, his thoughts bring him back to his dream.

Now they were all sitting around the grill in North's backyard. The Reds and Blues were mingled with the Freelancers, -Maine was lifting Donut with one arm in comparison to Caboose, who was lifting Doc with his own, beaming without breaking a sweat. Grif and Simmons were sitting pressed against each other's shoulder while watching South and Wyoming arm wrestle, Florida hovering nearby. Lopez stood off to the side with Kai, neither of them speaking because the yellow-wearing Grif was definitely eyeing up the Freelancers arm wrestling with a watering smile. North was at the grill with old Sarge hovering around him, demanding that he show how a crispy steak was done,- but Wash's eyes were only on his rendition of Tucker. The teal soldier was singing terribly and dancing around York's lawn chair to escape Carolina's clutches as the woman chased him around with murderous intent.

His singing was more like yelling as he shouts, "Sweeeeet Carolin-AAA! Same team! Same team!"

York and the others who saw Carolina tackle Tucker began to laugh and it was like a chime of what Wash would imagine being like a dinner bell; a call to home. Tucker continues to whine and yelp with Carolina keeping him in an armlock. Wash begins to imagine CT nudging him in the ribs as she stood beside him with a beer in her hand.

Wash would look down at her, but her eyes are focused solely on Tucker trying to breathe when Carolina finally lets him go, "David, we love you and all... But if you break his heart, I'm pretty sure every ex-freelancer here would break your neck."

Wash chuckles, and when he opens his eyes he realizes that he's chuckling into Tucker's warm skin and the backyard has been replaced by his and Tucker's darkroom. But instead of feeling sad at the realization, Wash feels content as he squeezes his arms around Tucker's waist.

"I think they would have adored you."


	5. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a small one-shot that acts as a small companion chapter to my fanfic.
> 
> The OC in this chapter is called Ghost, also known as Agent Indiana, also known as Diana Church.
> 
> Mentioned Grimmons, Tuckington, Churboose, Carolina/Kimball, Docnut, Sarge/Dr. Grey.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!

It wasn't really a surprise when Donut demanded that they all go back to Chorus for the weekend of Valentine's Day. What surprised everyone is that _Carolina_ of all people backed him up. (No one needed to know that he bribed her with three bottles of wine.)

So off they begrudgingly went. Upon arriving, all of their friends and former lieutenants came to greet them with open arms. Settling into their temporary rooms was easy and dinner was even smoother. Well, as smooth as one dinner with the Reds and Blues could be. Look, the buffet was just begging to be emptied, and whether or not Grif did so is entirely up for debate. And if Tucker were to start a food fight to make sure that the orange bastard would learn his lesson, no one can prove it was him. 

The next day was weird. Or weird for Ghost who has known the Reds and Blues for years now. Weirder than what she's used to when she's around her boys. 

"Ghost! Ghost! Hey, Ghost! Ghost! Ghost! Ghost--"

"Yeah, buddy?" She chimes once she got tired of her name, turning her head so that Caboose knew that he had her attention, not that that mattered. He would have droned on regardless of whether or not he had her attention.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

She smiled warmly, expecting the question knowing her fellow teammate enough to know that traditionally Caboose would ask Church that question every year. But ever since... Epsilon, Caboose has always asked his second choice. And who better to be his Valentine than Church's sister?

"Of course, Caboose. You know you don't have to ask every single year."

"But Washingtub said I always have to ask politely if I really really want something. And if it has anything to do with you, I HAVE to ask politely. I have to always ask you because that makes you comfortable."

"Thank you, Caboose. I appreciate that."

"And I appreciate you! Can I hug you?" Wordlessly she opens up her arms to him. It was just another question he didn't have to ask, but Caboose surprisingly respects people's boundaries. It's something he's learned to do after Wash joined their ranks and Ghost got her memories of Freelancer back. But regardless of her painful memories and regardless of her demons, Ghost has never once passed up on Caboose's hugs. She would never deny or neglect him even if it killed her.

Caboose gingerly picks her up and swings her around, quickly setting her down with a big grin on his face, "I can't wait for tomorrow! We're gonna have so much candy!"

Her smile lessens to something a bit more concerned, her eyebrows scrunching closer together, "Uh... not too much candy, okay buddy? Remember how sick you were last time?"

"Don't worry! Captain Sprinkles is baking soft pastries! I won't eat all the chocolate this time!"

"Good... I don't think Grif would let you anyway."

"See you at dinner, Ghost!" Caboose went off running while waving goodbye. Ghost had to force herself not to ask where he was going no matter how much it worried her. As long as he wasn't hanging out with Sarge, he should be fine...

Right?

She tries to ignore her thoughts before heading to the training room, in need of a few sparring matches with Wash. She passes by Carolina talking with President Kimball on the way there, Vanessa's usual party of bodyguards were absent from the picture. Not that they were needed anyway. Carolina was worth ten of them.

Ah, so maybe _that's_ why the female redhead backed up Donut's idea of coming back to Chorus. Ghost only flashes the two other women a smile before leaving them in the hallway.

Once entering the training room, she immediately finds Wash. It's not as though he was the only one there, there were a few other former soldiers getting their daily exercise in. But she's taught herself to recognize his figure in a crowd, from the top of his blond head to the bottom of his bow-legged, well, legs. It figures he'd be in here. Even though they're technically on vacation from their retirement on Iris, Wash still trains. It's his form of exercising, for the most part, he never trains strictly for a future fight. He does take routinely morning jogs with Ghost, but he's eased up quite a bit since the war. He's at least much more relaxed than Carolina was. (She still has a lot to learn from Grif. I mean, how hard is it to learn to sit in your pajamas all day?)

Washington spots Ghost before she could even call out to him, and he steadies the punching bag he just took a swing at, catching his breath, "Did Caboose find you?"

"Yup. You don't have to remind him about asking for permission, you know. It's Caboose. Despite his team-killing streak, he's like, the least likely person I think would harm me."

"I usually don't have to remind him..." the blonde shamefully admits while rubbing the back of his sweaty neck, "But tomorrow is... you know..."

"Wow. I'm surprised you remembered," Ghost grins, "Could you pretend that you didn't for another twenty-four hours? I was taking bets with Grif and Donut."

He sputters with a flushed, defensive expression, "Wh-What? I wouldn't forget--"

"Between you and Tucker, we imagined you would be the one to forget a holiday or an important date," Ghost snorts while waving absently, "Don't worry about it. I might still win the bet if you forget Tucker's birthday--" Wash opens and closes his mouth to try and pitch some form of rebuttal but she's quick to interrupt before he does, "Why did you have to remind Caboose before Valentine's Day?"

Wash blinks and then the offending expression melts back into his shell, his nervous expression bringing back the faint memories Ghost had of the rookie freelancer. It made her lips curl slightly knowing that there were still parts of that goofy kid hiding in the man he was today. He's still the same young man she felt fiercely protective of all those years ago.

"Well..." he looks off to the side, avoiding eye contact, "It's just one of his favorite holidays and I know he can get a little overexcited."

"A little?" She snorts, deciding that she wasn't in the mood to call Wash out on his little white lie. She's known him long before he knew how to properly lie, therefore she can catch all of the bottled up bullshit he tries keeping to himself. But just for today and possibly tomorrow, she'll let it slide knowing that she and Tucker could easily get him drunk tomorrow and interrogate him.

Wash chuckles before bending down to dig through his gym bag, bringing back up a couple of pairs of tonfa, "I know I know. Hey, you wanna spar for a bit?"

She only has to smirk in response before Wash tosses her two of the batons, gripping his own and standing with the short sticks raised in a defensive position, waiting patiently.

Things only got weirder from there.

After sparring with Wash and taking a shower, Ghost headed to her room and came across three individuals waiting for her. She stands in the doorway, her hand currently lost in her wet curls freeze upon finding Grif, Simmons, and Donut all sitting around in a circle on her bed and setting down some old and torn playing cards. Only Donut looks up at her entrance and waves, "Hey, Ghosty!"

Ghost thanks herself for remembering to change in the locker room before coming back here. She didn't want to give Simmons a heart attack (before Grif was scheduled for one due to his diet) if she had walked into her room in nothing but a towel. She plays off her initial shock before crossing the room and flicking the orange-wearing man in the shoulder with a deep scowl, "Wear socks if you're gonna sit on my bed. That's gross."

"That's what I said!" Simmons pitched from beside Grif, who begrudgingly reaches over the bed to find his discarded socks on the floor. With the maroon and orange soldiers being complete opposites, Ghost was the healthy middle ground. She liked being organized when it came to certain things, but she was never as uptight about it as Simmons. She was way more laid back like Grif when it came to a few other things because she only ever believed in taking organization and cleaning seriously when it was necessary. So yes, she did just throw her bath towel in the corner of her room just to spite Simmons and then proceeded to straighten out the corners of her bedspread where the three Red soldiers on her bed have wrinkled them. 

"What are you guys doing in here?" She had to admit, this was odd even for the Reds. Ghost has always hung out with Donut separately from Grif and Simmons (whereas she has never hung out with Grif and Simmons individually, not even when she and Grif drank. Simmons was always their designated driver.) Donut and Ghost always had their Wine and Cheese hour to themselves ever since the pink-wearing man found out Ghost liked red (yes, red, don't smirk Sarge) wine compared to other forms of alcohol (She didn't have the heart to tell him she liked whiskey just as much). 

But the fact that Grif, Simmons, _and_ Donut were all hanging out _together_ in _Ghost's_ room was weird. Weirder than usual.

"We're hiding from Sarge," Grif explains, and that's a four-word sentence that's always made perfect sense to Ghost. She didn't even need any further explanation as she wordlessly sits down in their circle of blankets and snacks while Simmons dealt some cards out for her.

Sarge has always made it his goal to make sure everyone knows that Valentine's Day and Christmas are strictly Red Army holidays due to their color scheme. (Although Ghost had argued that she should have some custody over Christmas due to her armor being green. That argument with Sarge was pointless and yet they nearly lasted twenty-four hours over that debate.) Someone stupidly mentioned once that Halloween was technically a Red Army holiday due to one of the main colors being orange. That went as well as one would expect when they know how much Sarge hates orange and anything (anyone) who is affiliated with the color. No one is brave enough to celebrate other holidays in front of him that might have the color red involved, such as Lunar New Year.

It took a couple of rounds of Go-Fish before Sarge figured out where his team was hiding, and so the Reds quickly dashed out of Ghost's room and disappeared to find a new place to bunker down in before dinner. When mealtime rolled around, Ghost made her way to the mess hall before she heard her name being called down the corridor.

"Ghost!"

She turns and waits for Tucker to catch up, his face beaming once he makes it to her, "Quick, Ghost! Be my Valentine."

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"You can have more than one Valentine, you know. You don't have to just have Caboose every year," Tucker winks.

"You make it sound like I'm always stuck with Caboose. Is that why you guys are acting weird?" Her frown deepens and her arms defensively fold in front of her, "Is there some sort of competition going on to try to seduce me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Ghost," he laughs, and Ghost admits that even she thought she sounded dumb, "And I wouldn't exactly put the words 'Caboose' and 'seduce' anywhere near each other."

She paused and then shrugged, "Fair. But I'm still not gonna be your Valentine."

"Whhhyyyy?"

"I bet you don't have anything planned for Wash tomorrow."

"Not true!"

"Lemme guess, sex? It's sex, isn't it."

"You wound me, Ghost."

"You're a lover, not a planner."

"Oh, fuck you!"

"I bet you planned on it."

That actually stuns Tucker into laughing and Ghost finds herself joining him as they walk into the mess hall together. That sort of banter wasn't entirely weird for the two of them. It was pretty normal as they join their crew of friends at their usual table. After grabbing their food and sitting down, Grif leans over the table and hands Ghost a small pack of Oreos, "Here."

The whole table is quiet as Ghost carefully holds the packet in her hands, eyes wide and jaw open. She looks between the cookies and Grif before finally responding with, "What the fuck?"

"It's payment for hiding us in your room," Donut smiles while Simmons just nods.

Tucker glares at Ghost, "You hid the Reds in your room?"

"Why didn't you tell me we were having a party in your room!" Caboose beams.

Ghost is still stuck on the part where Grif gave her _food_ as payment. And now that she thought about it, he had actually _listened_ to her earlier when she had told him to put his socks back on if he was gonna be sitting on her bed, "You don't give anyone your food. Least of all your Oreos."

"That's not true!"

"Hey, Ghost?" She looks up and finds Wash had finally joined them, freshly clean from training with a pair of tonfa still in his hands, "You forgot your tonfa."

Her eyebrows furrow, "I don't own any. Those were the pair you gave me to train with this morning, remember?"

"Well, yes, but they're yours now."

"Okay, what the Hell is going on?" She stands up from the table and glares at each Red and Blue that had been overly nice to her today, "Who are you guys and what have you done to my idiotic assholes?"

"Hey!" Simmons frowned, "We are not your--"

Donut pinched his side and the cyborg yelps at the top of his lungs and swats at Donut with a red face as bright as his hair. Grif snorts at Simmons, "We kinda are."

"You guys are acting weird," she continued, "And by weird I mean weirder than usual," she pointedly glares at Wash, "So what's this about?"

Wash looked pale. He looked as though someone had caught him rubbing his face over someone he loved like the clingy cat he really was. His eyes flick over to Tucker and some of the Reds, but they all suddenly remembered that there was food in front of them and coincidentally avoided eye contact as they ate. He looks back to Ghost, who raises a suspicious eyebrow at him and he suddenly gives in, "Well... this is technically our first ever Valentine's Day where the majority of us have partners to celebrate with. There are me and Tucker. Grif and Simmons. Donut and Doc--"

"Well, yeah," Ghost huffs, "But there's still Carolina--"

"Who has Kimball."

She eyes him carefully, before slowly listing out other names, "...Sarge--"

"Dr. Grey."

"Lopez."

" _Really_."

"Okay. But I'm always Caboose's Valentine, right buddy?"

"Right!" Caboose yells from across the table, "Ghost and I are never alone on Valentine's Day anymore!"

The way he worded it made Ghost pause as her eyes widen and looked around the table. Now everyone was pointedly avoiding her gaze as the realization dawned on her, "... Wait a minute. THAT'S what this is about? You didn't want me to be alone for Valentine's Day??"

Wash tries recovering, horribly failing, "I... I mean, we--"

Ghost whips her gaze over to the dark-skinned man sitting next to her, "Tucker, you _literally_ just said anyone could have more than one Valentine!"

"No! I said YOU could have more than one!" He narrows his eyes, almost defensive about the fact that he had been caught being nice, "You, as in _Ghost_ , because you deserve it!"

The comment stuns the former female freelancer for a moment, opening and closing her mouth before she finally formed a reply, "... Huh?"

Tucker stubbornly clams his mouth shut and looks away, huffing and crossing his arms like a toddler. Ghost doesn't take offense and looks back at Wash for a better explanation. He clarifies, "You're always taking care of us and you're always supportive of all of our relationships. You're like a third wheel to a lot of us--"

"Gee, thanks," she muttered under her breath.

" _Not_ my point. I'm just, _we're_ just saying that we wanted you to feel loved and appreciated this year, too."

Her cheeks felt warm as her eyes widen comically again. She looks around at the Reds and Blues, and slowly they begin to look back at her with small smiles, "R-Really?"

"Here," she turns back to Wash just in time to see him put a flash drive in the palm of her hand, "Listen to that tonight. You'll get what we mean."

"And then tomorrow, we'll have a party!" Donut exclaims excitedly, "We'll do anything you want!"

She looks down at the flash drive and then up at Donut, then back down again. It takes her a few moments before her normal grin starts to reappear, "... _Anything_?"

"Ghost, Donut was already going to paint your nails and braid your hair," Grif rolls his eyes, pretending he didn't exactly care for this whole party idea, "Come up with some new material for tomorrow. Be creative."

Her grin had turned fox-like, "Grif, you're going to wish you _never_ said that... but thanks anyway."

That night, Ghost took the flash drive in her hand and stared down at it oddly, as if wondering if the device was going to blow up. She slowly inserts it into her helmet and waits anxiously. It didn't take very long as a soft song begins to play and her entire form stiffens, her hands growing cold around her helmet.

_I don't believe in fate  
No psychic vision..._

She slowly sinks down to sit on the edge of her bed, staring down at her visor like she's never actually seen it before. Her heart decides to stop for a few moments before beating erratically.

_But when things fall into place, superposition...  
_

A sharp, shaking breath escapes her lips as a shiver runs up her spine and reaches the back of her neck. She had almost forgotten all about this song. How did Wash remember?

_In any universe, you are my dark star...  
_

She closed her eyes while listening to the chorus, a small smile tugging at her face while reminiscing all the good memories she had with this song-- _her_ song.

_I want you to want me  
Why don't we rely on chemistry?  
Why don't we collide the spaces that divide us?  
I want you to want me_

She hums along to the instrumental bit and sways ever so slightly, a warmth of nostalgia taking place instead of the cold realization that was there initially. It wasn't like she played this song religiously back in Project Freelancer, but it was a song that she always remembered fondly. It was one of those very few good memories she had of the project... and one of those very few good memories she still had left of _Him_.

_Superstition aims with imprecision...  
_

Now she understood what Wash was trying to say. He and the rest of the Reds and Blues didn't want her to feel lonely on Valentine's Day; lonely in her _thoughts_ and her memories of past loved ones she lost. It wasn't about having Caboose or anyone else as her Valentine. It was about reminding Ghost that she wasn't alone anymore. And she never will be, even though there are some people she loved so much who can no longer be there with her anymore. 

_But when things can't be explained, superposition...  
_

_He_ liked this song, too, she remembers. That's why this eventually became their song, not just hers. 

_Oh... In any universe, you are my dark star..._

This time around, Ghost softly sings along, _"I want you to want me. Why don't we rely on chemistry? Why don't we collide the spaces that divide us? I want you to want me. I want you to want me..."_

It was almost like _He_ was there with her again, and maybe that's why Wash wanted her to wait to listen to it. She could almost feel those arms wrapping around her in a soft, protective embrace, keeping her safe from harm. She remembered _He_ used to be so much taller than her, having to settle his chin on the top of her head.

_No matter what we do  
I'll be there with you!_

Her eyes feel warm and they begin to blur. She slowly wraps herself around her helmet and continues to listen to the song with a heavy heart filled with both happy memories and sad ones.

_I want you to want me  
Why don't we rely on chemistry?  
Why don't we collide the spaces that divide us?  
I want you to want me_

The song slowly comes to a close and Ghost immediately wipes her eyes before any tears could fall. She lets out a shaky breath, smiling into the darkness of her room once she read the time to be past midnight.

"Happy Valentine's Day, North," she whispers at nothing, but the song made her feel as though she was talking right at him. For once, for the first time in years, Ghost didn't feel so alone without him being there. But maybe that was because she was reminded that she wasn't alone, not really.

She remembers Allison for a moment, who would tuck her tiny daughter in at night before she had to leave for the army the next morning. Ghost remembered what she had said that night and remembered Carolina repeating her mother's words so many years later, _"Never say goodbye. If you don't say goodbye, then you aren't really gone. You just aren't here right now."_

Ghost remembered how much the Church family-- _her_ family, really hated saying goodbye. They _hated_ goodbyes. It made herself almost feel grateful knowing she didn't get a chance to say goodbye to North. But there were days where she was sad knowing she didn't HAVE a chance of saying goodbye even if she wanted to. Those were the days where she wished she got closure. To her, saying goodbye meant having some form of closure; a weight lifted from your shoulders.

Well... then maybe this song could be her way of saying goodbye. She wipes her eyes again and smiles, setting her helmet down safely after programming the song to play again. She tucks herself into her bed and shuts her eyes. She could think about saying goodbye later.

For now, she had to think about what she was going to make her family do for her on Valentine's Day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about Ghost and my fanfic, the link to that story can be found on my ao3 and it's just called "Red vs Blue's Ghost"


End file.
